


Swan Song

by Kawaiibooker



Series: The Promise [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Alucard gets a hug that's all that matters, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, Post-Season 2, Spoilers for Season 2, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 14:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18551644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kawaiibooker/pseuds/Kawaiibooker
Summary: Trevor and Sypha come to a very important realization.(A fix-it of the Season 2 ending because I want them to be happy.)





	Swan Song

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-read by [sharkflan](https://twitter.com/sharkflan), [pyrokaster](https://twitter.com/pyrokaster) and [TheSnailQueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSnailQueen/pseuds/TheSnailQueen).
> 
> Please enjoy and beware the Season 2 spoilers!

They went back for a book. One amongst hundreds, thousands in the Belmont library, one that Sypha had her eye on and forgot to take with her when the time came to leave.

The sudden memory of that book had her sitting up straighter in the wagon's stiff wooden seats, from the comfortable-warm arch of Trevor's shoulder that had served as her cushion for the past hour.

“The book”, Sypha gasped with some urgency. “Those spells– Trevor, we have to turn back!”

Trevor had merely blinked – he'd been halfway to dozing off, the road painfully uneventful –and groaned. “Spells? I thought we're done with those for a while.” His voice lost conviction with every word, however; weeks of travelling with a Speaker magician and a dhampir, of all people, had certainly taught him a thing or two about getting the short end of the stick in most arguments.

That stubborn glint in Sypha's eyes remained.

Sighing a defeated “fine”, Trevor tugged at the reins once to get the horses' attention. Sypha snickered and patted his thigh.

“Good Belmont.”

“Urgh”, Trevor replied eloquently. In the distance, the spires of Dracula's castle bled red with the last light of the setting sun.

*

It's long dark by the time they push open the gate left ajar, their silhouettes spilling on the floor along with the full moon's cold glow.

“Alucard?”

Trevor knocks the handle of his beloved Morning Star against the heavy wood and waits, one moment, then two. Him and Sypha exchange puzzled looks – the hunter shrugs and lets himself in. Alucard's hearing is frighteningly sensitive and they aren't particularly trying to be sneaky.

Surely he'd heard them approach, huge castle or no.

Even so: The place of Dracula's last stand holds memories that are... mixed, for all of them. Trevor can't help a little shudder at the haunting sound of their echoing steps in the abandoned-looking main hall, the strewn debris and splatters of blood still smeared across the ancient stone. Now that he thinks about it, leaving all that behind for Alucard to fix by himself might've not been the best of decisions. Then again, he saw him work through solid rock faster than even Sypha's strongest incantations.

A bit of spring cleaning shouldn't be too much of a challenge, in that case.

“Fangs!”

Nothing. Trevor huffs, shakes his head, “Where the hell are you?”, he grumbles under his breath. Yet his hand tightens around his whip, the links of its chain clinking together rather ominously in the ensuing silence.

“I don't have a good feeling about this”, Sypha tells him quietly. She, too, is tensing up, hands raised and ready to strike. The spark of worry on her face is one that Trevor feels as well, deep down.

_Alucard... is gone?_

No – he promised he'd stay. That he wouldn't go back to his slumber, after everything they've been through. And yeah, he thought hell would freeze over before the last of the Belmonts trusted the son of Dracula to keep his word but... Things are different now. Things have changed.

Trevor clenches his jaw. “Come on. He has to be here somewhere.”

Dracula's castle is an enigma, a book with seven seals or more even to those who are welcome within its halls. With Alucard by their side, they had found their way around with ease – an ease, Trevor realizes, that wasn't meant for outsiders like them. Door after door they find closed, magically sealed or blocked entirely by pieces of the still-crumbling walls around them.

_Damn it, Adrian._

Less and less the innocuous reasons for his absence retain any sort of credibility; Sypha doesn't object when Trevor picks up speed, wasting precious seconds looking into collapsed hallways and empty rooms. Higher and higher they climb, up flights of stairs that are dusty with disuse and windows so opaque it's like Dracula's siege never ended.

Like Alucard is but a mere ghost, his return bearing no consequence to the world of the living.

The thought sticks to the back of his mind like a sickness, a festering wound he's only now growing aware of. Had he missed something? Alucard seemed damn near chipper the last time they saw each other, a mere handful of hours ago. Trevor made sure he was okay, in his own way...

Or did he?

Suddenly Sypha is there, her hand clamped around Trevor's elbow and pulling. “Trevor!”

“What?”, he snaps but the Seeker long stopped being intimidated by him. She glares and motions for him to be quiet, finger over her lips. _Listen._

Trevor listens.

And what he hears makes his heart clench with dread.

*

A book is what made them return and yet, as Trevor finally, _finally_ stumbles into the room – Alucard's room, the room of his childhood, the room they killed Dracula in – and finds _him_ , he knows they made the wrong call.

“Oh, Alucard...”

The words slip from his lips unbidden and unheard; mere steps away Alucard curls further into himself, shoulders hunched and shaking with the tears that glisten between his fingers, the sobs he hides behind trembling hands even though–

_We left him behind._

The image before him burns itself into his very being, like demon flesh sizzling under holy water – broken glass, books ripped apart, a portrait of a woman, fair-haired and beautiful and _so familiar_. An epiphany of the worst kind, the kind Trevor hoped he'd never have to experience ever again.

_His family is dead and we fucking left him._

Beside him, Sypha is frozen in place, as still as Trevor found her in that crypt all those weeks ago but there's moisture gathering in the corners of her eyes, too, shock leaving her face pale and bloodless. It's not her who should've understood but him: Trevor, who has loved and lost just like Alucard has, who can only face that same grief in drunken delirium or not at all.

The air feels too thin to breathe, guilt wrapping around his ribcage and _squeezing_ like the cord of one of his whips–

Trevor wrests himself away from that edge like he's done countless times before. The dhampir, no, his _friend_ needs him. The man who stood by him despite his doubts, his tasteless jokes, despite the animosity brewing between their families for centuries down the line.

“Alucard”, Trevor says and his voice almost gives under the weight of his heart. Stepping closer, “Adrian”, he repeats, softer now, sinking to his knees in front of him, a sinner begging for absolution.

Gold glints in the darkness, bright with tears. There's recognition, then, in Alucard's eyes that widen with immediate shame as he chokes out: “Trevor, I–”

Trevor pulls him into a hug.

One arm over the other, reaching around his slighter frame isn't much of a struggle – infinitely harder to bear is the noise of surprise Alucard makes, utterly vulnerable and so small against Trevor's shoulder. That he, usually so proud, ever so ethereal and aloof, would let the hunter close like this... Something in Trevor breaks anew.

“Forgive me”, he whispers, mouth moving over silky strands of hair. “I didn't– I'm sorry, Adrian.”

Alucard shudders near-violently, breath hitching in his lungs; he crumbles into their embrace, buries his face against Trevor's neck and his fingers in his tunic and gives in to his grief, safe in his arms. Blunt nails scratch over the Belmont crest on Trevor's chest and God, was he a fool to believe being half-vampire made him any more prepared for this lonely existence life thrust upon him.

A fool for looking at Adrian Țepeș and seeing only Alucard, son of Dracula.

([Art](https://twitter.com/maia_beans/status/1150006734536282112) by [maia_beans](https://twitter.com/maia_beans), posted with permission.)

A light touch to Trevor's back – by now he has learned not to shy away from it, looking up and into Sypha's gaze gone soft with worry. She kneels beside them, cards her fingers through Alucard's hair before pressing a kiss to his temple, gentle in its fleetingness.

“You're not alone. We're staying by your side, this I swear to you.”

There is no guarantee for her promise, no guarantee they'll live up to that hope of a long, happy life _together_ that touches her words. Yet they have fought and won against greater odds, odds far beyond what any of them thought possible to overcome.

Trevor holds Alucard closer. “Damn right we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> That ending? Nu-uh. Not allowed. Alucard will keep his new lil family or I'll riot.
> 
> A big thanks to [maia_beans](https://twitter.com/maia_beans) for the wonderful art!
> 
> [tumblr](https://kawaiibooker.tumblr.com) / [twitter](https://twitter.com/kawaiibooker)


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